


every time i look in your eyes (the world gets quiet)

by guitarstrings



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Best Friends, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, a bit of angst, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 21:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17312213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guitarstrings/pseuds/guitarstrings
Summary: There are a million questions racing around in Betty’s head at that moment, ranging from how, when, and, of course, her personal favorite when she’s feeling particularly insecure - which goes by the name of why - but it’s silenced the moment Veronica pushes closer, until the softness of her face is the only thing to take Betty’s entire field of vision.Veronica puffs out a breath, then, chin still tucked on Betty’s chest, she murmurs, “Don’t let go of me just yet, Betty Cooper.”





	every time i look in your eyes (the world gets quiet)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year to you guys! In line with that, here's a new Beronica fic to start it up :) Also, I realize it's been a while since I wrote from Betty's perspective, so here's all 11k+ words of that lol. I hope you guys enjoy, thanks in advance for reading, and have a great year ahead! 
> 
> Title of this fic taken from "Silence" by Before You Exit
> 
> Also, feel free to drop by my Tumblr, @coolguitarplayer :)

There used to be a lot of voices in Betty’s head. Most, if not all of them, have kept telling her, _reminding_ her that she’s never going to be enough. Not as a friend, not as a daughter, not as _anything._

And yet, ironically enough, people have called her ‘perfect’. But if she’s as perfect as people – as _Archie_ – claimed her to be, then why is it that she used to face rejection after rejection? If it were true, why have the voices lurking around in the deepest recesses of her mind only grown louder and louder instead of quieting down like they’re supposed to?

It doesn’t make sense, or rather, it _didn’t_ make sense, until she met Veronica Lodge.

Veronica Lodge, who had been quick to throw compliments her way even though they’d barely known each other at the time, yet not once described Betty as… _perfect_ straight to her face or anyone else’s for that matter.

And see, one would think that someone as unabashed and strikingly beautiful as Veronica would have tossed the word around as easily as she tosses her hair back.

But Veronica doesn’t, and for that, Betty is eternally grateful. The last thing she needs is for another person to misunderstand her and not see her for who she really is, and, as time passes by, the more Veronica proves that she isn’t one of those people.

In fact, if Betty is being honest, Veronica is the one who gets her the most.

So much so that she can tell when Betty is thinking too much for her own good.

“Betty,” Veronica singsongs, reaching across the counter to squish Betty’s cheeks in her hands. “Are you still there?”

Anyway, has Betty mentioned how _lovely_ Veronica’s voice is – whether she’s speaking or singing? Because yeah, it’s like angels are descending from the heavens every time Betty hears it.

The warmth of Veronica’s palms against her face makes the quiet laughter that bubbles from within Betty spill out easily, her eyes refocusing on the dark ones that look back at her. “Yeah, V, I’m still with you.”

And just like that, Veronica grins, honest to goodness _lights up_ that the thoughts that had been swirling around in Betty’s head vanish in an instant. Even Betty can’t help but smile herself, the usual, once-thought perpetual, heavy, constricting pressure in her chest nonexistent in Veronica’s presence.

“I like it when you say that,” Veronica says with a small, shy chuckle as she ducks her head, and Betty’s freaking heart expands and takes up more space in her ribs. It’s amazing, really, and still somewhat surprising that Veronica has this side to her, and even more awe-inspiring that it’s her – _Betty Cooper_ – of all people who can bring this Veronica out.

On instinct, Betty stretches out her fingers to brush away locks of raven hair from Veronica’s face, drawing that soft, adoring expression back to hers. Veronica lets out a slight giggle and traps Betty’s hand in place, stroking each of her knuckles using her thumb.  

“Well,” Betty starts with a tilt of her head, heart thrumming like a hummingbird as Veronica slides her fingers down to enclose them around her wrist. “I can promise you it’s the truth.”

Veronica smiles, skims the inside of Betty’s wrist with her fingertips, right above where her pulse beats, and presses down on it with a gentleness that seems to be reserved for Betty alone.

“Careful there, Betty Cooper. There’s only so much a poor old girl’s heart like mine can take,” Veronica teases, light and flirty before leaning in to plant the sweetest, most breathtaking of kisses on Betty’s cheek.

The breath Betty’s been holding in comes out in a rush as Veronica pulls back, and she’s fairly sure her ears are pink by now going by how hot they feel. Then, just because she’s _Veronica Lodge,_ she gives Betty’s other cheek the same kiss, leaving her blushing hard.

Well, Veronica sure is one to talk because there’s only so much affection Betty can take from her before her heart jumps straight out of her chest.

* * *

Despite the abundance of chairs in The Blue and Gold’s office, Veronica insists on perching herself on top of Betty’s desk every time she swings by (which happens to be every day, of course), giving Betty’s eyes a lot of leeway to land on her legs.

And by a lot, Betty means _a lot_ a lot. Great, now she can’t even string together words inside her head, much less speak them what with Veronica currently sitting on the wooden surface of Betty’s desk.

Really, it’s unfair, because there’s only so much self-control Betty can have in situations like these. And to make matters worse, Veronica decides to cross one leg on top of the other, accentuating the muscles in her legs and calves which are no doubt due to Vixens’ rehearsals.

And, oh boy, Betty’s imagination goes into overdrive again. But before it spirals out of control and gets the best of her, Betty swiftly turns away to focus on her monitor’s screen. She can do this. She can totally ignore that Veronica’s legs are _right there,_ mere centimeters away and _God, she’s in so much trouble, isn’t she?_

Then, as if Betty isn’t in enough of a tight spot as she already is, Veronica shifts ever so slightly which causes her leg to brush directly against Betty’s elbow. The sudden, unexpected contact has Betty freezing in place, her fingers stopping midway from typing on her keyboard.

“Oops,” Veronica laughs, low and breathy and not looking the least bit apologetic when Betty’s eyes snap wide open and fly towards her. “Sorry, did I distract you?” she purrs, dragging her index finger ever so slowly down Betty’s arm, and, and-

Betty has this overwhelming urge to bang her head against her keyboard.  

But that would be unbecoming of her, not to mention flat-out crazy and just a terrible, terrible idea in general.

This doesn’t deter Veronica, however, as she begins sidling closer to Betty, skirt hiking up her legs and revealing more skin along the way, fingers creeping up until they’ve found their way to the slope of Betty’s shoulders.

A garbled sound forms at the back of Betty’s throat, her ability to speak already flown its way out the window and never to return again.

Forget distraction – Betty has already lost any and all ability to think and function.

And then those legs, those cursed (blessed), toned legs rub against Betty’s forearm, and yup, it’s too late now. Her mind has already gone there, and there means thinking of Veronica’s back pushed up against a wall or the lockers of the girls’ changing room, those very same legs hooked around Betty’s waist while their lips meet again and again in frantic, heated kisses.

Well, _dammit._

Her gaze, unfortunately, darts down the very second Veronica decides to lick her lips, dragging out another purr as she pushes Betty’s collar to the side to scratch at her collarbone.

See, Betty is used to be on the receiving end of Veronica’s flirtatious touches, or at least she _thinks_ she is, but then Veronica goes and decides to do something like this and Betty’s not so sure of herself anymore.

The only thing that helps is Veronica doesn’t act this way around and with other people, not even Archie, so Betty can’t find it in herself to fault her for that.

In fact, it’s nice - _reassuring_ even - to know that she’s the center of Veronica’s orbit for her to be acting this way towards Betty. Veronica’s sincere, honest attention to her is one Betty had been deprived of for heaven knows how long now, and it’s the kind she’s needed all this time.

“It’s okay,” Betty finally manages to answer, her voice a little raspy. When it comes to Veronica, it’s always, _always_ okay.

The initial playfulness found in Veronica’s earlier words and less-than-innocent touches melts away into a familiar, comforting fondness when Betty musters the courage to rub her knee, her knuckles brushing against the exposed skin.

The gesture makes Veronica unmistakably happy, her rich, brown eyes sparkling more than usual as Betty drums her fingers against her leg.

And when Veronica slides her thumb over the space in between Betty’s hair and her ear, Betty takes back what she’d told herself a few days before.

There can _never_ be enough affection Veronica can give her.

* * *

 

It’s cute, how Veronica looks smaller than she already is wearing one of Betty’s hoodies. Even funnier is the way the sleeves flop around when Veronica makes her hand gestures, like those inflatable tube man balloons found at carnivals.

They’re walking next to each other, the crunching of the gravel underneath their feet mostly unheard by Betty and ignored by Veronica. A light giggle bubbles out of Veronica when Betty musters the courage to pull her to her side by wrapping an arm around Veronica’s shoulder, a small surge of pride welling up in her chest at the thought that only she can bring such a cute sound out of Veronica.

“Well,” Veronica starts, tucking her chin against Betty’s shoulder, looking both amused and delighted at the same time, “someone’s being clingy.”

Betty shrugs her other shoulder and teases, “Not as clingy as you are.”

“Okay, Betty Cooper, let’s get our story straight, shall we?” Veronica huffs, cheeks puffed out, “I am _not_ clingy. It just so happens that I love your company so much that I refuse to spend time with anyone else in this boring-ass town.”

If Veronica wasn’t pouting like a five-year old and wearing one of Betty’s hoodies that is clearly oversized on her, then Betty might have been able to take her at least a little bit seriously. But that isn’t the case at all, so Betty ends up laughing by way of response.

“I dunno, V, because that sounds like you’re defining what being clingy means,” Betty answers, stroking her chin as if in deep thought.

With an unconvinced scoff, Veronica rolls her eyes and tugs on Betty’s sleeve until their hips are bumping. “My God, are we honestly bickering right now over this?”

“I’m preeeetty sure we are,” Betty rolls out, earning another huff but this time with a smack on the arm. “Ow!”

Veronica retorts, “Oh please, you and I both know that barely tickled given how toned your arms are.”

Betty almost chokes on air at that, but manages to right herself at the last second. Heat spreads throughout her neck and cheeks, making her feel as though her entire face is on fire. Seriously, how on earth can Veronica say these kinds of things with a straight face?

Then Veronica spins around and throws her arms around Betty’s neck, head tilted expectantly to the side and a fond sparkle in her eyes. Betty opens her mouth, then closes it again, at a loss for words with Veronica reaching further up until Betty has no choice but to lower her head.

And yet, there’s something else, something _more,_ Veronica wants from her. The look in her eyes says it all, and Betty has to wonder since when were they able to understand each other so well to the point where they no longer needed to use words in order to tell what the other was feeling.

A smile, soft and loving, then stretches Veronica’s lips; Betty, somewhat uncertain but moved nonetheless, removes her hands from her jacket pockets to snake her arms around Veronica’s waist, breath coming out in a rush when Veronica’s response is to rest her chin on her chest.

It feels like something is stuck in her throat, so all Betty can do is look down at Veronica, at the way she’s looking at Betty as though she’s the only person to exist within her sphere.

There are a million questions racing around in Betty’s head at that moment, ranging from _how, when,_ and, of course, her personal favorite when she’s feeling particularly insecure - which goes by the name of _why -_ but it’s silenced the moment Veronica pushes closer, until the softness of her face is the only thing to take Betty’s entire field of vision.

Veronica puffs out a breath, then, chin still tucked on Betty’s chest, she murmurs, “Don’t let go of me just yet, Betty Cooper.”

Betty lets out a shaky laugh and drops her head against Veronica’s shoulder. As if she even could. As if she could ever even _want_ to.

“Sure. I mean, not when you’re being clingy like this,” Betty jokes, earning a loud huff of annoyance and a slap on the back.

“Whatever.”

Betty laughs again, pulling Veronica flush against her.

God, if only Veronica knew.

* * *

Since that day at The Blue and Gold’s office, Betty has taken to start initiating touches with Veronica. Truth be told, the soft blush and the small, giddy giggles that Betty manages to coax out of Veronica each time even has her wondering why she’d been so afraid and hesitant of taking that step in the first place.

Oh, right. It’s because she isn’t used to showing her affection, much less had _anyone_ to receive it with much exhilaration the way Veronica does.

So, to say that all eyes are on them when they walk into the school gates with her hand on the small of Veronica’s back is the understatement of the century. To Veronica who’s used to being the center of attention, the whispers that follow them doesn’t seem to faze her at all. Betty, on the other hand, is trying her best not to mind the curious stares being thrown her way, so she focuses instead on guiding Veronica through the swarm of students crowding the narrow hallways.

The fabric of Veronica’s cashmere blouse feels soft against Betty’s fingers, her palm gliding against the material in a smooth motion as she slides her hand to rest it on Veronica’s hip. Little does she know, Veronica sucks in a breath at the gesture, but what Betty does notice is that Veronica has sidled closer, a bright smile breaking across her face as she burrows into Betty’s side.

It’s Betty’s turn to hold in a breath, the happy twinkle in Veronica’s eye more than enough to drown out the hushed whispers that surround them. Then, as if the way her fingers are curled around Betty’s forearm isn’t enough, Veronica lifts her other hand to tap on Betty’s collar before spreading it out with a fingertip.

Her lungs are probably taking in more oxygen than they should, but Betty doesn’t care because when was the last time in her life pre-Veronica where she didn’t feel like the walls were closing in on her by the minute?

Betty keeps her hand on Veronica’s hip, making sure to be respectful the entire time by not moving it lower or higher. Only by the time they reach their lockers does Betty let it drop, though she does so with much reluctance.

Veronica, too, lets go of the affectionate hold she has on Betty’s arm, and turns to face her locker. Funnily enough, they haven’t said so much as a word to each other, yet it feels like they’ve said enough with nothing more than those grounding touches they’ve exchanged.

Stranger still, Betty has this feeling of certainty swelling up and wrapping itself around her chest that there isn’t another person in this universe she can be this way with.

And best of all, the photos of her and Veronica scattered across her locker gives more weight to that feeling of surety.

After grabbing the things she needs and inserting them inside her backpack, Betty turns back towards Veronica and plucks the books she’s carrying out of her struggling arms. This coaxes a grin out of Veronica, who is quick to press a sweet, sticky kiss against Betty’s cheek.

“Don’t worry, I wore smudge-free lipstick today,” Veronica informs her with a wink, and Betty has to bite her inner cheek to stop herself from blurting out that she doesn’t mind if that weren’t the case.

She does blush, however, and shifts her weight to the side in hopes not to give away how nervous (the good kind, of course, because Veronica never makes her feel the bad kind) she feels all of a sudden. 

“Right,” Betty clears her throat, putting on a half-smile Veronica has repeatedly said looks cute on her.

Veronica then places her hand over where Betty is carrying her books, and is it possible to breathe in too much air? Because Betty feels like she may have breathed in a little too much, although Veronica steals it all away again in one fell swoop with just a simple stroke of her thumb against the inside of Betty’s wrist.

If Betty didn’t have her hands full of Veronica’s belongings, she would rub at the back of her neck or scratch her cheek, but since they are, she has no other choice than to stay still and let Veronica’s fingertips wander around idly across her forearm.

Though she wishes she could touch Veronica, too.

* * *

 “So, I hear congratulations are in order,” is how Cheryl greets Betty as they settle into their seats later that morning.

Betty gives her a blank stare, unsure as to what Cheryl is pointing out. Sitting beside Cheryl, Toni turns around in her chair to face Betty and says, “She means you and Veronica.”

The blank look on Betty’s face gives way to one of perplexity, her eyebrows scrunched together and a million questions racing around in her head.

Cheryl’s eyes go wide into one of shocked realization. “Oh my God, aren’t you two dating yet?”

Perplexity them morphs into one of comical shock, and, spluttering, Betty goes, “Wha- me and Veronica? I don’t- wait- what gave you that idea?”

At that, Toni’s jaw goes slack, and she and Cheryl exchange bewildered expressions.

“Uhm, because you had your hand on Veronica’s back and hip this morning?” Toni raises tentatively.

“And it’s always Veronica that’s touching you and never the other way around, so,” Cheryl adds with a casual shrug, although the confused look still coloring her face gives her away.

A furious blush pretty much sets Betty’s entire face on fire, and, with a groan, she drops her head to her hands. Was it really that big of a deal that she finally managed to muster the courage to return Veronica’s (friendly?) displays of affection?

“That’s a misunderstanding,” she croaks, parting her fingers to peek at Cheryl and Toni. “Veronica and I- we’re not dating.”

“Huh,” is all Cheryl says. “I thought for sure you already were this time.”

This gets Betty to gape at her, because _say what now?_

Leaning back against her chair, Toni drums her fingers against her elbow, a slight frown pulling her lips downwards. “I thought so, too.”

Betty then directs her look at Toni, probably feeling the most lost and confused she’s ever been in her life, which is saying something because she’s _always_ been lost and confused.

Good God, what had her life turned into?

* * *

It isn’t just Cheryl and Toni, but Archie, too. They’re playing catch in the Andrews’ backyard when Archie goes, “How are you and Veronica doing?”

The question breaks Betty’s concentration, resulting in the football Archie tosses at her to hit her square in the stomach with a resounding smack that has her doubling over and Archie running over to her out of worry.

“Betty- oh shit, are you alright? I’m so sorry,” Archie rushes out, hands darting out to Betty’s shoulders to stop her from crumbling to the ground

“Yeah,” Betty gasps and gingerly clutches her stomach. It feels tender under her fingertips, and she’s fairly sure she’s going to end up with a bruise, but other than that, she doesn’t think she’s in a lot of pain. Besides, Archie’s question was the one that caught her more off guard than being hit with the football itself, so. “Yeah, I’m good. And don’t be sorry, I was the one who wasn’t paying attention,” she wheezes.

Archie frowns, unconvinced, and Betty shoots him what she hopes looks like a smile to reassure him, but she’s fairly sure it ends up as a grimace instead. Also, she decides not to point out that it was what he asked that threw her off her game so as not to make him feel any guiltier than he already feels.

“Here, you should sit down for a bit,” Archie murmurs, guiding Betty to sit down on one of the monoblocs scattered across the yard.

To ease Archie’s concern, Betty decides it’s time to shift the conversation back to his previous query, even though the topic is one she’d rather avoid just in case it causes another mix-up.

“Veronica and I are doing great, by the way,” Betty says, careful not to bend forward too much because gosh, getting hit by a football pretty much hurts as much as being whacked by a softball.

It works; Archie’s face lights up and breaks into a sunny grin, but what he says next confirms Betty’s worst fears. “Hey, that’s awesome, Betts! I always thought you and Veronica made a lot of sense, so I’m really happy for you-“

Oh, dear God. That’ll teach Betty to keep her mouth shut when it comes to these kinds of things.

“Arch, we’re not-“ Betty tries to interject, but Archie plows on, his eyes sparkling with unbridled excitement.

“-I’ve also actually been rooting for you since day one. Hell, I even made sure to tell anyone on the team off who wanted to make a move on either of you-“

“Archie, you’ve got it all wrong, Ronnie and I-“

“-and Cheryl also kept the other cheerleaders in line so they wouldn’t approach you-“

“Arch!”

This finally gets Archie to clamp his mouth shut, his cheeks flushed a bright red as he ducks his head and sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. “Right, right, sorry about that. I think I got too excited,” he says with a laugh, with Betty stuck staring at him while she tries to process his earlier outburst. “Anyway, what were you saying?”

Betty takes a deep breath, sporting a blush of her own as she meekly admits, “Ronnie and I aren’t dating.”

It’s Archie’s turn to look confused, his mouth opening and closing in a funny way as he digests Betty’s words. Sucking in her lower lip, Betty picks at the hem of her shirt, the pain in her stomach now forgotten.

“Wait, really?” Archie wrinkles his forehead, as though Betty not dating Veronica was the one thing that made the least sense in the world. “I just- I thought you guys already are, since you’ve always been really close and-“

“-and the thing where I was touching Veronica’s hip at school a few days back,” Betty finishes for him. Archie gives a slow, uncomprehending nod. “Yeah,” she huffs out a laugh, then winces. “A _lot_ of people sure misunderstood that.”

Right. She just got hit by a football. Anyway, thank you, next.

“Wow, man, I’m sorry, Betty. I didn’t mean to assume things,” Archie apologizes, but Betty quickly waves him off.

“Nah, you’re good. It’s not your fault the rumors spun out of control,” she assures him, shrugging.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Archie chuckles. “But hey, if you need anything, just know I’ve got your back.”

For some reason, Betty has this strange feeling that Archie is offering so much more than just ‘having her back’ - namely, helping her muster the courage to ask Veronica out for real.

But Betty chooses to push that thought out of her mind and flashes Archie a smile as thanks.

* * *

For as long as she can remember, Betty had been stuck inside her own head, tossing and turning and doubting everything she thought she knew to be true. If they made her feel too restless for comfort, her reflex was to take her diary from the false bottom in her drawer, open it to an empty section, and jot down furiously on the paper – sometimes hard enough that the words start to bleed into the next page.

And it _did_ work – was therapeutic even – but it still had its limits. She had been able to write down anything and everything she wanted, but the doubts and anxiety she felt still remained deep-seated even after all that.

Empty pages can only carry words, after all. They couldn’t give Betty the reassurance she had so desperately needed, much less talk back to her, so more often than not she found herself staring at the ink-blotted pages and wondering if it was still worth writing everything down.

The answer, of course, had always been a resounding _no,_ but she continued to write, anyway.

It had been the only thing she had, though not quite enough.

There was no pressure to be perfect, just a mere feeling of catharsis as her pen glides across the pages. But writing essays and articles were another story; it was either do them perfectly or don’t bother at all – or at least that’s what her mom had drilled into her head.

Now, late into the night with her laptop’s screen as her only source of light, Betty types as quietly as she can on her keyboard, the pressing need to finish her article causing her to forego sleeping early once again. After a while, she pauses to take a sip of coffee from her mug, unaware of the pair of eyes that regard her with concern.

The words stare back at Betty, and Betty stares back at them, muttering under her breath as she continues to type some more. Then she pauses again, frowning at a sentence that seems to throw an entire paragraph into disarray before hitting backspace. Too engrossed with her work, she hears neither the rustling of the sheets nor the set of footsteps that pad towards her. It’s only when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her front does Betty finally snap out of it, the familiarity that envelops her letting the tension leak out of her shoulders.

“Still working on your article?” Veronica mumbles into Betty’s ear, quiet, sleepy, and a little worried. “It’s getting really late, B.”

Betty hums in acknowledgement, withdrawing one hand to pat Veronica’s. “I’ll be there in a minute; I just have to finish this.”

Tucking her chin on top of Betty’s head, Veronica peeks at the screen with bleary eyes, then kisses her hair. “Can’t this wait at least until tomorrow?” Veronica presses, but without a hint of impatience. When Betty doesn’t respond, Veronica sighs and urges, “Please, B? You’ve been at this for hours, and you haven’t been getting enough rest the past few days…”

At that, Betty’s shoulders slump, blinking tiredly at Veronica’s hand that now hovers over her laptop’s lid. She takes a deep breath, and, with a slight nod, croaks, “Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

Veronica takes this as a cue to close the laptop, the loss of the screen’s light shrouding Betty’s room in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight that filters through the windows. Releasing an exhausted sigh, Betty buries her face in her hands and rubs at her temple, while Veronica runs her fingers up and down her arms in fluid, soothing motions.

The words, previously burned into the back of her eyelids and brain, melt away the moment Veronica leans in and murmurs, “You’re an amazing writer, Betty, and nothing is going to change that.”

Under normal circumstances, that should be the cue for Betty to start thinking of disagreements that feed off of her insecurities with things like: _no, I’m not,_ and _I don’t feel like I’m good enough, I never do._

But this is the new normal now – Veronica, reminding her that she’s _more than good enough_ , pushing away the doubts and fears that had been festering over the years with nothing more than a glance; and Betty, for once in her life, believing that she _is._

Believing in and falling so much harder for Veronica every time.

Betty turns her chair around to face Veronica, sucking in her lower lip at the soft smile she’s greeted with as Veronica moves to sit on her lap.

She swallows the lump in her throat, reaching for Veronica’s hand to nuzzle her cheek into her palm before bringing it to her lips. There Betty threads their fingers together, breath hitching at the way Veronica closes her fingertips in on the spaces in between hers until they meet the skin of the back of her hand.

Then she brings her eyes back to Veronica, to her messy, sleep-tousled hair and the gentle curve of her lips, then back to their intertwined fingers, and _oh._

Betty now kind of gets why Cheryl, Toni, and Archie think that she and Veronica are-

Her thought process gets cut off, however, when Veronica tilts forward to give her a fleeting kiss against the corner of her mouth, causing Betty’s heart to nearly jump out of her chest.

But as if it wasn’t enough, Veronica does the same with the other corner, a small, breathless chuckle escaping her and a slight flush creeping across her cheeks as she pulls back to meet Betty’s stunned expression. Neither of them say a word after that, and Betty just-

She just _knows_ what this feeling in her chest every time she looks into Veronica’s eyes is.  

It’s _everything._

Veronica’s eyes then shift to the side, a sudden nervous energy suddenly taking over her as she climbs out of Betty’s lap. “We should go to sleep,” she mumbles, and Betty, still dumbstruck, can only nod and follow Veronica back to bed.

Under the covers, Betty feels Veronica anxiously twisting her fingers around which catches her off guard, because she can’t recall a time where Veronica has been this nervous before. Was it because of the kind-of kiss earlier? Could she be thinking that she crossed a line she wasn’t supposed to?

After a while, Betty senses that Veronica is about to move further away, but she’s quick to pull Veronica back and bring her head to her chest, drawing out a small gasp of surprise.

“Betty?” Veronica whispers, voice shaky with uncertainty, and Betty shifts onto her side so she can hug Veronica fully.

“I’m not letting go of you,” Betty breathes out, brushing her lips against Veronica’s hair. “You know that, right?”

In her arms, Veronica shudders, breaths coming out stuttered as she reaches around Betty’s back to press down on her spine. “Yeah…” she exhales, plants a soft kiss on Betty’s chest, right above where her heart thrums. “Yeah,” she repeats, surer this time, and Betty reassures Veronica by holding her closer.

The spot where Veronica last kissed her burns bright, and the intensifying feelings Betty has been harboring for a while now brighter so.

How long they’ve been there, Betty doesn’t know, but what she does know is this:

She’s absolutely and irrevocably in love with Veronica Lodge, and it’s in this stillness where it finds more room to grow, where it takes up more and more space as if to wanting to make sure Betty is aware of it with every single breath she takes.

But God, isn’t she already?

It’s Veronica who makes it easier for her to breathe, after all. 

* * *

 

The roar of the crowd is deafening. Betty, her baseball uniform damp with sweat and caked with mud, hobbles over to the bench, barely able to hear her thoughts amongst the sea of noise that surrounds her. Coach Clayton pats her on the back and gives her a smile, which Betty returns with a tired one of her own.

There isn’t much time left until the game is over, and with the score of their opponent stuck so close to theirs, Betty can’t quite savor the moment of rest that had been granted to her. Anxious and on edge, she sits on the bench and fidgets with her fingers while fervently hoping she doesn’t screw up their next play at a very crucial time.

Even from here, Betty can feel the pressure and expectations from the crowd, so much so that she’s begun bouncing her knees out of sheer nervous energy. Before she can take things another notch, however, there’s a towel being dropped on top of her head and she spots a familiar silhouette standing in front of her.

Pushing the towel back, Betty lifts her head, her nervous tic beginning to subside as she blinks up at a smiling Veronica.

“Hey,” Veronica greets her, eyes warm and encouraging. “How’s my star player doing?”

Betty lets out a small laugh and shrugs. “I don’t know about star player, but I am kind of nervous,” she admits, casting her gaze down onto the ground before bringing it back to Veronica.

Veronica hums in acknowledgement and starts rubbing the towel against Betty’s skin, her raven hair slick with sweat as well and sticks to various parts of her face. Suddenly, the crowd doesn’t seem as loud anymore, and Betty’s shoulders feel lighter, too.

“Well,” Veronica begins, and, upon listening closely, Betty notices that her voice is a bit hoarse, “I may not know much about sports, but you, Betty Cooper, are most definitely the best our girls’ baseball team has to offer.” She then slides her thumb across Betty’s chin, head tilted to the sight, and continues, “So, anyone who disagrees will have to go through me.”

There’s a hint of playfulness mixed in with the stern way Veronica says it, and Betty can’t help but laugh. Leave it to Veronica to drop a threat when the opportunity calls for it.

“Thank you, Ronnie,” Betty murmurs, dropping her head onto Veronica’s stomach.

But before Veronica can answer or do anything else, Betty is being called back out to the field by Coach Clayton. With a reluctant grumble, Betty complies and stands up, and with a peck on her jaw and a pat on the cheek, Veronica sends her off.

It’s all Betty needs to win them the game with a home run as the grand finale, with the ball sailing high up in the air and ends with the people on the stands rising to their feet to clap and yell their hearts out. All that is drowned out, however, when Betty turns around and finds an ecstatic Veronica running towards her at full speed.

At the last few steps, Veronica throws herself at Betty and flings her arms around her neck, breathless and just as sweaty, but laughing nonetheless. “Betty! Congratulations!” she exclaims, buzzing with excitement that Betty can’t help but grin, wide and happy, before Veronica by the waist to spin her around for as long as her tired arms would allow her to.

“Thanks, V!” Betty laughs, the feeling of having Veronica in her arms sending her spirits soaring higher up into the starlit sky. Then, before her arms can give way, she sets Veronica back down and points out, “But I’m covered in sweat and mud, you know?”

Unaffected, Veronica merely arches an eyebrow and pulls off Betty’s baseball cap, then puts it on her own head. “It didn’t stop you from twirling me around in the air now though, did it?”

At that, Betty lets out a hearty laugh and taps at the visor, a happy buzz thrumming in her chest when it gets Veronica to beam up at her. “No, I guess not,” she admits.

“Also, you’re also giving me far less credit than I deserve, Betty Cooper,” Veronica huffs at her, feigning annoyance, “because no amount of mud can stop me from giving my girl a congratulatory hug, especially after such an astounding performance.”

“You make it sound like I sang or danced out there.”

“Oh shush, you know exactly what I mean.”

Veronica then smiles, soft and adoring, and Betty thinks that she’s never seen anything more beautiful than the way Veronica’s eyes twinkle and glimmer despite the harsh glare of the floodlights.

And Betty knows there are hundreds of people who are possibly watching them at that very moment, but, for some reason, she just doesn’t care. _Let them talk; they always do, anyway,_ Veronica had told her once, and she’s right. There’s nothing Betty can do if people want to gossip, but she _can_ control the things she wants to do.

So, she does just that, or at least _one_ of the things she’s been wanting to do for a while now.

Steeling herself with a deep breath, Betty takes Veronica’s face in her hands and looks deeply into her eyes, pulse racing faster as Veronica reaches up to close her fingers around her wrists. Veronica’s touch, like always, grounds and calms Betty and gives her the courage to push through.

Both high off of their win and the feeling of holding Veronica’s face, Betty leans in to kiss her forehead, then buries her nose into Veronica’s hair. “Veronica, do you-“

Unfortunately, Betty never finishes her question because she’s suddenly being splashed with cold water, which causes her to yelp and jump back in surprise. Veronica starts giggling like mad at the look on Betty’s face, while Toni, too, laughs somewhere in the background.

Yep, she’s in _way too deep_ for Veronica Lodge.

* * *

They celebrate the win over burgers and milkshakes at Pop’s, just the two of them like they always do over each other’s victories. From across Betty sits Veronica, the color of her blouse clashing with Betty’s varsity jacket that she wears.

With one hand placed on top of the table, sitting mere centimeters away from Veronica’s, Betty taps an idle rhythm while swirling her straw around her milkshake before leaning in to take a sip. The neon lights dance across the windows beside their booth, casting blue highlights on Veronica’s hair.

It’s the perfect moment to take a photo, and so Betty fumbles around in her pocket to take out her phone to do just that. She then points the camera at Veronica, thankful that she’d asked Toni for photography lessons as Veronica smiles and tilts her head a little to the side.

Once satisfied with the settings, Betty hits the shutter button and glances at the photo. Of course, there’s no doubt that Veronica is beautiful and highly photogenic to boot, but it still takes Betty’s breath away nonetheless.

“Can I see?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure,” Betty swallows, then slides her phone towards Veronica.

Veronica takes a good look at the photo for a moment, smile widening as she lifts her head to meet Betty’s eyes. “This looks really good, B.”

Blushing, Betty claps a hand over the back of her neck and gives a meek shrug. “I have Toni to thank for that, to be honest.”

“She does take beautiful pictures,” Veronica agrees.

“Yeah, she really does.”

After returning Betty’s phone, Veronica pushes aside her glass and rests her elbows on the table, then slides them forward as she leans in closer. Betty drops her hand from her neck and folds it over her forearm, blinking at Veronica.

A few months ago, it had been Archie sitting across her during the last evening of summer. And while there had been… _feelings_ there, they weren’t as intense or as cemented as the way she feels for Veronica. There had been flickers of doubt, moments of uncertainty, which Betty now knows to be the reason why she’d still been hesitating despite her previous decision to finally lay it all out in front of Archie once and for all.

She and Archie had felt like complete strangers to each other back then, too, which Betty had of course, ignored, because it was the one thing she had always been good at. Just ignore the red flags being waved right in front of her and pretend that nothing has changed.

Needless to say, that had been her downfall and the illusions she’d surrounded herself with all shattered in the blink of an eye.

Not with Veronica though. Never with Veronica.

“So, what made you want to learn photography?” Veronica asks, curious, brushing her fingertips over Betty’s wrist.

Betty clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, contemplative, before answering, “I’m not sure that there was a deeper reason behind it other than I wanted to give it a try…”

“That’s okay. I mean, not every choice we make has to have this grand, majestic reason behind them.”

“You’re right,” Betty agrees, chest bursting with warmth because Veronica gets it. Then again, she always does.

“The photo you took also gave me an idea, actually.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

Veronica touches the ends of her hair, thoughtful. “I think I’ll get blue highlights the next time I have my hair done.”

“Good plan; I think it’ll suit you,” Betty agrees.

“Thanks, B. I figured it’ll be a nice change of pace, too.”

With an understanding nod, Betty leans back slightly and runs her fingers through her hair, Veronica watching her with a quiet interest.

“You know, I used to think that was a nervous habit of yours.”

Betty stills her hand, then drops it on the table. “Really? For how long?”

“For the first few weeks I knew you, I guess,” Veronica admits, eyes flickering outside the window before settling on Betty again. She then rests her chin on her palm and continues, “After a while longer, I finally realized it’s kind of your thing when there’s something on your mind.”

Ah. So that’s why Veronica has gotten good at reading her. Truth be told, Betty hadn’t even known that was the case until now that Veronica had pointed it out.

Betty pushes her tongue against her cheek, silently observing Veronica before murmuring, “There’s- you’re thinking about something, too…”

Veronica’s eyes go wide in surprise.

“How did you know?”

Betty does a little shrug and nods to where Veronica taps at her forearm. “You kind of do that when something crosses your mind.”

“Well, that came back to me quick,” Veronica says with a slight chuckle. “But you’re right. There is something I’ve been thinking about.”

“So, I guess it’s my turn to say ‘diamond for your thoughts?’”

At that, Veronica laughs and shakes her head. “Wow, using my own words against me twice in a row. That’s a new low for you, Cooper.”

A smile twitches at Betty’s lips, and she leans in closer to let Veronica know she has her full attention. Sucking in her lower lip, Veronica rolls up her sleeves before resting her elbow on the table. Betty swallows, inhales once, twice, then slides her hand forward to fold it on top of Veronica’s.

Veronica, too, takes a deep breath, then flips their hands over so she can scratch at Betty’s palms. The touch is electric, sending sparks up Betty’s wrist all the way up to her shoulders and even tickles a little, but she doesn’t try to budge even the slightest bit. 

“Believe it or not, I’ve never been this way with anyone else,” Veronica admits in a quiet tone, pushing and pulling at Betty’s sleeve. This time, it’s Betty’s turn to be surprised, the look on her face drawing out a shy, almost breathless giggle from Veronica. “I know. Pretty shocking, right?”

Betty opens her mouth, then snaps it back shut with a small shake of her head. Everything around her starts to reel because she’d just presumed this is how Veronica is with other people, but to suddenly find out that her assumptions had been false from the very beginning?

Let’s just say she’s not sure what the appropriate response is to that truth bomb.

“There’s something about you that just-“ Veronica then stops abruptly, and Betty can almost see the gears in her head turning if she concentrated hard enough. “You make it easy for me to drown everything else out in a way no one else has ever managed to do.”

Her voice is raw, unsteady, and it’s something Betty knows and can relate to full well. Different as some people think her and Veronica to be, there are things they have in common, too.

Namely, how opening up to others doesn’t come easily to them, though for different reasons entirely.

The universe had cut them both open, leaving them to bleed and suffer for the longest time until there was nothing left to bleed; until they could feel nothing but exhaustion and a tightness in their chests that they believed to be a permanent presence.

And Betty just-

She wants it to stop for Veronica.

Their eyes stay locked onto each other, Veronica hesitantly withdrawing her hand from where it rests inside Betty’s elbow, and Betty getting up and sliding right next to Veronica as soon as the contact is gone. Underneath her dark lashes, Veronica peers up at Betty, lips parted and a fist curled around the fabric of Betty’s jeans.  

Throat bobbing up and down, Betty lowers her head, chest burning, aching, and throbbing all at once the moment her lips touch Veronica’s hair. She releases a slow breath, her heartbeat somehow calm and steady even as she takes Veronica’s face in her hands once again.   

There aren’t hundreds of eyes watching them this time, just hers on Veronica’s and Veronica’s on hers like so many other nights before.

Veronica’s cheeks feel warm against her palms, and, for a passing moment, Betty wonders if she makes Veronica feel safe. Secure. Untouched and unharmed by the rest of the world that seems so bent on being cruel to them both.

Gazing up at Betty, Veronica presses her palms against the back of her hands to keep it there, seemingly soaking in every bit of affection Betty has to offer her.

And God, Betty really hopes she does make Veronica feel all those things.

Because she just-

She’s never been the type to ask for much, but this is one thing Betty would make an exception for.

She could never stop loving Veronica, either, even if she tried.

* * *

If Archie was bad, then Kevin was the absolute _worst._ Literally the first thing he does after barging into Betty’s bedroom one Saturday evening is head straight for her closet and rummage through her clothes, pulling out all her flannel, plaid, and solid-colored button-up shirts from where they hang on the metal rod before dumping them onto her bed.

“Okay, first, you should start wearing these types of shirts _all_ the time,” Kevin emphasizes, picking out a blue-and-black flannel shirt from the pile for Betty to see.

Seeing the shirt jogs a memory in Betty; that was the first flannel shirt she’d worn around Veronica, and by the second time she wore it, Veronica had tugged her down by the sleeve and whispered into Betty’s ear that it was her favorite shirt.

Needless to say, it had become Betty’s favorite, too.

“What are you doing here?” Betty asks, puzzled by Kevin’s sudden, unannounced visit.

Kevin rolls his eyes and sighs in exasperation. “I’m here to give you fashion advice, _duh,_ ” he answers, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ooookay?” Betty says slowly as she sits up, the bed already too cramped with her clothes scattered all around it. “Why, though?”

“Because,” Kevin starts, giving her a look, “your dear girlfriend Veronica Lodge has a borderline unhealthy obsession with you wearing long-sleeved shirts with buttons. I mean, do you _see_ the way she looks at you? It’s like she’s fantasizing taking her sweet time taking your shirt off every. Damn. Time.” He punctuates each word with a suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows, which makes Betty blush right to the tips of her ears.

And _no,_ she is by no means imagining Veronica’s dark eyes looking up at her while she deftly pops Betty’s shirt open, button by button, until there are no buttons left and Veronica’s dragging a lone finger down her exposed chest.  

She really isn’t, okay?

“She’s not my girlfriend though,” Betty blurts out, effectively rooting Kevin from where he stands.

Unlike Archie, however, Kevin doesn’t buy it. “Oh honey, I think we’re already past the point of lying about your relationship status now, aren’t we?” he breezes, then chuckles and shakes his head. “Seriously, Betty, there is absolutely _no way_ you can be that handsy and touchy-feely with each other and not be dating.”

Oh, _bother._ Why did Betty ever think it would be easy to convince Kevin otherwise? If anything, he’s probably the most stubborn out of her friends when it comes to this type of conversation.

Seriously, she puts her hand on Veronica’s back and hip in public _one_ time, and everyone loses their damn minds over it. Granted, it hadn’t been a fleeting touch, but for people to immediately jump to the conclusion that they’re _dating_ because of such a small thing?

Wow. Just, wow.

“She really isn’t,” Betty argues, the deadly serious expression on her face wiping the huge grin clean off of Kevin’s face.

“You’re serious,” he mumbles.

“Yeah.”

“You’re really not-“

“Nope.”

Kevin blinks, uncomprehending, then says, “But… what about Veronica literally throwing herself at you after you won your game?”

Sighing, Betty rakes her fingers through her hair, a slight frown tugging at her lips as she shakes her head. “That’s just how she is, Kev. You know how excitable she can get.”

Now that she says it out loud, it sounds nothing more than a weak excuse. Betty heaves another sigh, pushes her tongue against her cheek, and drops her gaze to the myriad of shirts piled up in front of her. Despite herself, Kevin’s earlier words come rushing back to her, along with the various scenarios of Veronica toying with her sleeves; Veronica, twisting her fingers around Betty’s collar before pulling her down to laugh into her neck; Veronica, idly trailing a path down the buttons of Betty’s shirt – quiet, contemplating - uncertain, almost.

Oh.

_Oh crap._

Betty did _not_ see that coming.

The realization strikes Betty the same time Kevin recovers from his shock, and then he goes, “Well, we are still giving you a makeover so Veronica would immediately say ‘yes’ before you can even pop the question.”

Kevin’s tone is light and airy, like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world for Betty to put herself out there and pop-

Betty barely manages to stop her jaw from dropping, because _what the what now?_

 _Pop_ the question? Okay, that is _not_ how you phrase asking someone out on a date, because that- that’s the term people use when they’re about to ask someone to marry them.

She’s about to point this out to Kevin, but it’s a lost cause the moment he starts rummaging around further into her closet, leaving Betty’s brain to go into overdrive.

* * *

Weekends are B and V date weekends, or at least that’s how Veronica likes to put it. And that’s exactly why when Betty steps out of the shower one lazy Sunday morning, Veronica is there on her bed, sprawled across on her stomach with her feet up in the air while casually flipping through a magazine.

It’s kind of funny, how Veronica is taking up so much space on her bed, much like how she squeezed herself into whatever tiny space Betty had left in her life.

Betty tosses her towel aside the very moment Veronica looks up, dark eyes finding hers from across the room, teasing and mischievous even underneath the light glaring from her reading glasses.

“Beeeeetty,” Veronica drags out Betty’s name, pouting up at her and puffing out her cheeks. “Stop thinking and come over here.”

Betty laughs and does as she’s told, flopping down on the empty space beside Veronica’s, the bed dipping underneath her weight. Veronica makes a happy sound, rolling over onto her side to throw half of her body on top of Betty’s, magazine still in hand.

Curious, Betty takes a peek at the cover to find out what its name is, a disbelieving chuckle escaping her afterwards. “Seventeen Magazine, V? Seriously?”

“Dead serious, B,” Veronica shrugs nonchalantly before her lips stretch out into a smirk, the kind that alerts Betty that she’s scheming something. “But you know what, I’m just gonna go ahead and set this aside now that my attention has wandered off to more…” she trails off, batting her eyelashes at Betty as she runs a finger down her chest “…interesting and important matters.”

Veronica then throws the magazine away, which lands on the hardwood floor with a distinct thud that Betty barely hears over the loud thumping of her heartbeat.

Throat dry, Betty can only stare up at Veronica’s darkened pupils, hyperaware of the lone finger that strokes her chest in deliberate, languid patterns. She’s not sure what Veronica means by ‘important matters’, but it does raise a few questions Betty thought she’d already abandoned long ago.

And, of course, at the forefront is her mother’s voice, the one that used to play like a loop in Betty’s head for days on end and made her decide to tread carefully around Veronica. The very one that brought her insecurities front and center the first few times she’d found herself in the same position she’s in now, taunting her that she’s nothing more than a passing fancy for Veronica Lodge.

The very one that has had Betty waiting with bated breath for the second Veronica decides she’s had enough of the boring, girl-next-door in favor of searching for friends far more suited to someone of her caliber.

Every pressing need to find solace and comfort in Veronica’s touch had been pushed down, and even more so the urge to reciprocate those once fleeting brush of the fingers that now turn lingering.

_Girls like Veronica Lodge don’t like girls like you._

“I’m guessing now is a good time to ask what you’re thinking about…” Veronica murmurs, when Betty’s hand find her wrist.

Swallowing, Betty tries not to put too much thought into the pressure on her chest, courtesy of Veronica’s palm. What exactly did her mom mean by _like,_ even? Was it as a friend, or something deeper than that?

“B…?”

Wait, when did Veronica’s face become so close?

“My mom-“ Betty clears her throat, going cross-eyed by Veronica’s proximity and heart slamming forcefully against her ribs. Veronica leans in closer, her hair tickling Betty’s cheeks and jaw, a curious shine in her eyes, waiting – always waiting for her, so it seems. “She used to tell me that girls like you don’t like girls like me.”

Her gaze then wanders off for a few moments before settling back onto Veronica, whose eyebrows are now furrowed and her lower lip sucked between her teeth, looking contemplative.

“Is that why you used to be so on guard around me?” Veronica then asks, voice soft but not accusatory.

Betty lets out a weary sigh and gives a small nod. “Yeah. It’s just- I wasn’t sure why someone like you would give me the time of day. I mean,” she lets out a slight, airy laugh, the weight of Veronica’s palm making sure to keep her heart intact in its proper place. “I have a pretty boring life. It’s always been school, home, school, home for me.” She shrugs and picks at her sheets. “I’m just Betty Cooper - the girl-next-door, stuck in this stupid town since the day I was born Betty Cooper.”

The frown on Veronica’s face deepens, and Betty lets out a watery laugh. She would have drawn her knees up to her chin by now, if not for the fact that Veronica is still very much on top of her.

“Well, the one thing you said that I agree with is that this town is stupid,” Veronica mutters, rolling her eyes; Betty chokes out another laugh, which brings out a grin. “But as for the rest?” Veronica’s expression turns serious again, and she stretches out her fingers to rake them through Betty’s hair. “I couldn’t disagree more. You’re not boring, Betty. If anything, you’re the _only_ person that can ride on the same wavelength I’m in.”

Veronica then gives Betty a look that dares her to argue her point, but Betty doesn’t, knowing just how stubborn Veronica can be.

“You’re still not over Archie pretending to get your Truman Capote reference, are you?” Betty teases, feeling lighter and more reassured now.

“Oh God, _never,_ ” Veronica laments with a wrinkle of her nose. “But you know what’s even worse, B?”

“Yeah, V? What’s even worse?”

“It’s that he _actually_ thought he was the one I was trying to impress,” Veronica groans, drops her head against Betty’s shoulder. “Because, news flash, it wasn’t. It was _your_ reaction I wanted to see, B,” she huffs, folding her arms across her chest like an annoyed five-year old. Betty giggles at the barely-contained exasperation written all over her face. “But unfortunately, his loud, forced laughter deprived me of that chance.”

Betty suddenly has this pressing need to tell Veronica that Archie being interested in her is no longer the case, since, well…

Since he’s been rooting for the two of them to get together for a while now, apparently. But she chooses to keep it to herself, unsure if she wants to find out what Veronica’s reaction to that is going to be. So, she chooses to go with the flow of the conversation instead.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I did get your reference and I was impressed,” Betty assures her, drumming her fingers against Veronica’s knee. “Not much people here care about that kind of stuff, so it was a relief to know that you do.”

“That’s good,” Veronica breathes, fingers stretched out, inching close towards Betty’s cheek, hesitant.

Betty wastes no time in clasping her hand over Veronica’s and kisses each of her fingertips, thinking it’s about time she did it. Above her, Veronica sucks in a breath, a look of quiet surprise crossing her face when Betty places a warm, open-mouthed kiss above her knuckles.

Veronica’s eyes flicker to the side, more unsure than hesitant now, and whispers, “Because I also used to think girls like you didn’t like girls like me, either.”

Betty’s reaction is immediate; her eyes fly wide open and she pulls the now trembling Veronica into her arms, the sudden collision knocking the wind right out of her lungs in a single rush, but she takes it without a sound.

“God, Betty Cooper, you always did get me,” Veronica half-laughs, half-sniffles, forming a fist around Betty’s shirt.  

Throat closing up, Betty allows Veronica to curl into her, and Veronica allows her fingertips to wander idly down her spine.

Pressing down on the small of Veronica’s back, Betty exhales, “You always did get me, too.”

* * *

Veronica eventually gets those blue highlights on her hair done at a small parlor the next town over, because it turns out that Riverdale is backwater enough to not have one that doesn’t extend its services beyond giving haircuts.

Luckily for them, that isn’t the case at all with the neighboring town, so they’ve been spared from having to go somewhere further than that. Betty was right, too, when she’d said that it would suit Veronica.

Of course, it goes without a doubt that Veronica is striking enough as she is with her regular hair color, but there’s something in the way the streetlights catch and bounce off of the blue streaks that has Betty needing to hold in a breath far longer than usual.

The sound of the passenger door of her pickup truck closing rings out in the air, and she finds herself rooted firmly to the spot as Veronica coyly trails a finger down the buttons of Betty’s shirt while batting her eyelashes.

“Thanks for coming with me today, Betty,” Veronica purrs, tilting her head to the side so Betty can more clearly see the glint in her hair.

Mouth dry, Betty braces herself by planting her palm against the door, just a little off to the side of Veronica’s head. “Anytime, V.”

Veronica tilts her head back against the window, the look in her eyes now softer and more serious than playful. Betty wonders what she’s thinking of right now - if Veronica is as calm and composed on the inside as she appears to be on the outside.

Maybe she is. She _is_ Veronica Lodge, after all, and something like this – her being sandwiched between Betty and the truck – shouldn’t faze her, right?

“You never looked away from me,” Veronica observes, fiddling with the ends of Betty’s shirt. “Even when everybody else turned away and scorned me-“ her voice drops to a whisper, and still, she powers through even though she sounds sad and thoroughly heartbroken, “-you never did. And you still-“ she huffs out a laugh, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

Betty pulls her hand away from where it rests on the cool metal to gently wipe them away, something in her breaking, too, as Veronica’s lip starts to quiver. She touches their foreheads together and gives Veronica a moment to compose herself, their warm breaths mingling in the cold air of the night.

Veronica tangles her fingers in Betty’s hair, lightly pressing her fingers against her nape and jeez, Veronica never did know how to play fair, did she?

Well, Betty’s learned to be the same way, too.

She braces her other hand against her truck and keeps it there for a solid second or so before moving on to Veronica’s shoulder, then her face, again. Part of Betty wonders if what Veronica said is true, if no one else has really ever _looked_ at her.

Because Betty?

Betty doesn’t think she can ever _not_ look at Veronica, not peel away at the layers that make up who she really is and not the selfish, bratty rich girl people love making her out to be.

Maybe that’s why she’d gotten so defensive when the first thing her mom did the moment Betty had told her about Veronica was to insult her, even though they’d barely been friends at the time.

Looking back on it now, that was the first time she was able to square her mother straight in the eye and openly defy her. Prior to that, it was Polly who was always quick to jump in at the rescue while Betty looked away and discreetly bit a nail or two, maybe more, into her palms.

And for Veronica, Betty would do it all over again in a heartbeat – no pause, no hesitation.

She just _would._

Then Veronica’s face is in between her hands again, dark eyes searching, dissolving, and oh so soft, soft, _soft._

Veronica sinks back against the truck, and Betty wonders if she thinks she isn’t being fair, either.  

But the ball ends up back in Veronica’s court when she releases a breath, slow and deliberate, and then: “You still don’t.”

Really. It isn’t _fair,_ not even the slightest bit.

Unluckily for Veronica, however, Betty, too, knows a thing or two about ball games.

So, she leans right in and ends it the only way she knows how, and it’s by kissing Veronica that she does.

And the feeling of hitting a game-winning home run isn’t one that can be compared to the rush she feels when Veronica draws closer and kisses her back – almost like she’s the baseball herself, soaring straight up into the sky at blinding speed with nothing and no one to stop or even slow her down.

She runs her thumbs over the smoothness of Veronica’s cheeks, the warmth somehow sending Betty flying higher but not close enough to the sun to burn.

Funny how she has enough courage to kiss Veronica but not to ask her out on a date, like Kevin and Archie had been so quick to push her to do.

Well, at least they would be dead-on the next time they say that she and Veronica are, well, more than friends.

That can come later; for now, it’s just her and Veronica and no one else.

* * *

“Our friends think we’re dating, by the way.”

Veronica props herself up on her elbow, a sly smile toying at her lips. Betty looks up at her, shirt half-unbuttoned and a glazed-out look in her eye.

That’s what happens when she and Veronica have been kissing pretty much nonstop, apparently.

“Well, they’re not wrong now, are they?”

A chuckle escapes Betty, her ears going pink as she cradles the back of Veronica’s neck and brings her head to her chest. Something inside her melts as easily as Veronica twists their legs together and hugs her side, akin to a koala.

There’s a quiet, familiar comfort in the way Veronica’s back curves as she curls into Betty, fingertips grazing the sides of her jaw before straying underneath Betty’s shirt to stroke at heated skin.

Eyes fluttering shut, Betty lies still, fighting hard not to suck in a breath with every pass of Veronica’s dark-painted nails against her stomach and hums, almost drowsily, “Yeah, I guess not anymore.”

Then, Veronica stops. Two of her fingers are stilled above Betty’s chest, and she holds it there for a moment before she starts stroking again, up and down, up and down – languid and with a hesitant kind of wanting, if Betty is reading Veronica right.

“You make me want you so much, Betty Cooper,” Veronica sighs into Betty’s neck, the longing in her voice drifting away into the darkness of the bedroom. “So much that I don’t -“ she pauses, then rests her hand on Betty’s stomach as she lifts her head to meet Betty’s steady gaze, “So much that I don’t want to be this way with anyone else. So much that I don’t ever want to stop wanting you.”

If it were any other person, if Betty didn’t _love_ Veronica so much that she didn’t feel the same way, every fiber of her being would have started fighting against the very idea that someone could want her the way she wanted them.

With Veronica, she’s just so… _sure._ It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, or what the voices inside her head have been trying to tell her all these years.

She’s just stable. Certain. Grounded.

And heaven knows she wants Veronica to feel the same way around her, too.

Without looking away, Betty reaches for Veronica’s other hand and twines their fingers, thinking:

For Veronica, Betty will always find a way to break free from the currents that threaten to sweep her away.

If it’s Veronica, Betty will allow herself to be pulled underneath the very depths of her eyes and soul.

For Veronica, she will, she will, _she will._  


End file.
